


Eyes Closed, Hands Tied

by eonwe_s (SerendipitousSong)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage?, Bird Euphemisms for Normal Human Things, But now I have a reason to use it, Confused Bird Man, Crack Treated Seriously, Cultural Differences, Cultural Misunderstandings, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, I mean I knew it was a tag already, I'm glad that tag is already a thing, Oh God Yes, Other, kinda...., what am I doing here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/eonwe_s
Summary: Eönwë had a rough time understanding why the Secondborn were obsessed with his rank, position in Manwë's court, his undeniable beauty and god-like wings, and marital status.At least, he wondered all the way up until he accidentally accepted the hand of an Atani lord's unwed offspring. After that he just wanted to make it through the next day.He wished he could fake his blossoming interest in his hapless spouse as well as he could fake this relationship.
Relationships: Eönwë/Original Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Eyes Closed, Hands Tied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolainRhyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolainRhyo/gifts).



Really, it began as a huge misunderstanding. One misspoken word, a mistaken meaning, or perhaps just simple cultural difference. But all agreed it was a misunderstanding.

By all, he meant Eönwë. Himself. _He_ thought of it as a misunderstanding.

And it was! How was he supposed to know that the clans of _Atani_ harbored great respect for seasoned generals, for the art of war, and for strong figures? They also seemed to hold in awe the very presence of his host, many elves and a few Maiar bearing the glow of the Flame Imperishable. They were as gods to the _Atani._

And apparently, gods were highly sought after.

It began with a high ranking captain, unnamed to him and his host but highly regarded by the Men, sidling up to his own captains and making friendly. They seemed terrified at first. Eönwë knew it was just the plague of being unearthly beautiful by the standards of Men that caused fear, but it was actually a little disheartening. But they warmed up to him eventually.

The crumbling of the earth helped bring them all together anyways.

Then that same captain, general and lord in his own right, began speaking with him as equals. Which bothered Eönwë for just a moment before he considered that maybe making friends with those he fought with may not be such a bad idea. After all, the _Peredhel_ were on the same friendly terms! The various minor soldiers who also shared in nightly merriment with the clans of Men seemed to vouch for them.

Would it be so bad to attempt niceties? Not really. And there was little reason to be aloof even if they were indeed mortal, and his host was departing very soon. Let them all have something to blot out the weariness of war.

Then, the captain began to speak of his family. Particularly one child of his.

"A real beauty, that one is! Bright eyed and young, and quite ready for courting, though I dread the thought of it! A father likes to be sure his children find suitable spouses, isn't that right fellows?"

The other captains and soldiers laughed and drank to that.

"Aye! Your littlest 'un ain't so little anymore, though! Right grown, and it makes me shorts hot to think on 'em," one youngster remarked crudely. They'll be nearing twenty two summers here, ain't that right?"

Another chimed in, "And still unwed! I'd swear you're keeping 'em locked up in a tower if they wasn't around here somewhere, nagging us like an old clucky hen!"

The captain grumbled. "That is still my youngest you speak of. No need to be vulgar."

One of his seconds came to the child's defense. "They don't nag. They run the camp, after all. You'd do well to heed their word when they _nag."_

Eönwë watched the younger _Atani_ shrink under the scrutiny of the good general and his second.

Afterwards, Eönwë also noticed that he had yet to meet this mysterious and yet widely known Youngest Child of the Aged Commander of This Particular Clan of Atani. Apparently the General was hoping to find a suitable groom for his last child, who, it seemed, was not really a child at all anymore. At least, by the reckoning of Men. They oversaw a small league of various squires to their father, and was _"the only reason the men around were clean, their tents in good repair, and had any sort of damned manners"_ as said by any _Atan_ if he asked.

Or even if he didn't ask. Men of this clan were very willing to divulge praises about this particular… person. Girl? Lad? He wasn't sure. Perhaps the Secondborn were a bit like the Firstborn in that way, that they didn't put too much emphasis on… well anything really.

Health seemed to be one. Understandable. The Secondborn were prone to illness and aging. Youth also seemed to be something they _loved_ to tell him about unsolicited. How young and strong their body was. How they had… good birthing hips?

That was a weird one. Even Eönwë had to admit it seemed out of place in conversation around the fire, but the clan members nodded and raised their wooden mugs to that, laughing at the look of shock he had on his face.

Really though. It was getting ridiculous. The amount of praise they had for this Person Of Great Renown was getting a bit excessive. But he didn't want to offend by bursting out with refusal to hear anymore. They seemed to take great pride in their captain's offspring. He would be remiss to spoil their merriment by asking them to shut up about the child… grown person… thing.

The Mannish Bride, he took to calling them in his head. Because everyone around here seemed keen on blabbering on and on about how eligible they were for marriage.

If they wanted the Bride married off so much, why didn't they _all_ just marry them and get it over with.

Eönwë drew the line when they began asking after his marital status. But only lightly. A scribble, really. A doodle of a line, with a pen loaded with too little ink. A streak. A… a blot.

"Say, you're leaving soon, aren't you? You and your lot?" A particularly bold soldier leaned against a hitching post beside him as they watched his host bustle around. The younger lad were rather irreverent, having taken to playing pranks and teasing even the most stoic of the Host of Valinor.

Eönwë gave him a bit of attention. That was all the boy would need anyway, if it was teasing he planned. "Yes. On the morrow, by the looks of things. And your clan?"

The boy chewed a strand of hay in his teeth, eyeing him. Eönwë felt like he was a slab of meat at a market.

"After you all leave, back to your pretty lands of Elvishness. We mere Men are simple creatures, you know. We like a warm place to rest, good food, and family around us. After this shitshow, most of us just want all that back."

Eönwë understood that vaguely. He didn't really have a home, per say, dwelling mostly in the great halls on Taniquetil. Usually surrounded by other Maiar, both corporeal and not, but rarely with anything solely his own. Any _one_ his own. And while he definitely wanted to get back and share the hot gossip about the war-making with Ilmarë, there was not much calling to him from across the sea than his duties to Manwë.

He responded in the most acceptable (to his ears) and appropriate way.

"I wouldn't know what that is like. I have no need of warm fires or a safe dwelling."

"And companionship?" The little lad was bold indeed. He watched Eönwë's face closely. The meat comparison really seemed to fit.

"Companionship? No, I have no one."

The Mannish boy nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you know what they say: the pretty ones are usually taken. I guess we're lucky you're not then, huh? I'm sure the Commander would be right embarrassed if you was."

Eönwë sputtered. "Th-the _Commander?!"_ Had he missed something here?! "You don't mean…"

"HA! Now that's a laugh! No, you great feather brained idiot, the Commander ain't eyeing you up for himself! Dunderhead!"

The boy walked away, chest heaving with mirth, and went to help a comrade with taking down tents.

And Eönwë was left to wonder how much bolder a mere babe of a handful of summers could be, until he had his answer in the form of a brisk natured soldier whipping him on the behind with a rag.

"Get off that post, you! Can't you see we're packing up our camp?!"

The Maia turned in a rage, and his angry retort died on his lips as soon as he spotted the face he was about to yell at.

_Pretty._

That's it, that was his one brilliant thought. _Pretty._ Pretty hair pretty eyes pretty moles in a triangle on their cheeks pretty eyes pretty lips pretty eyes pretty eyes pretty eyes...

And then he remembered that they had just swatted his ass with a rag and ordered him around like any of the _Atani_ meandering about.

"How dare you! Do you know who I am!?" He let his shimmering white cloak shift minutely into misty, sparkling feathers, flaring out in a faint silhouette of great wings behind him. That usually did the trick. Shut up mortals when he wanted them to. It certainly stopped conversation around them, several people freezing and staring at him in horror. They looked mighty scared for him…

Wait, _for_ him?

The soldier crossed their arms. "You're in _my_ camp, on _my_ horse's hitching post, bothering _my_ soldiers and getting glitter on _my_ grass. You can take your shiny behind and shove off!" They whipped his ass again. "Scat!"

 _"Your_ camp? _Your_ grass? What?!" The nerve of the child! "Who do you think you are?!"

The Mannish soldier flipped their hair and managed to look down their nose at him. He wanted to glare at them in the eye, but that was hard to do when they could only make direct eye contact with the bottom of his ribcage.

"I think I'm in charge around here. That's who."

Eönwë felt his mind go blank. This… was this…

They were gone before he could inquire after them, disappearing into the crowds of _Atani_ , though their voice could still be heard barking out orders.

 _If that is the mysterious Mannish Bride then it is no wonder none have wed them. None could contend with them. No Man can possibly hope to keep up with_ that.

**Author's Note:**

> Just assume everything I write, I write for P since I can't help but gift her every single thing I crank out no matter the quality or fandom.
> 
> Also, this one goes out to my Clan, who hate my Bird Love but appreciate my existence nonetheless


End file.
